


Those Who Mourn

by lar_laughs



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, IN SPACE, mention of OC death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lar_laughs/pseuds/lar_laughs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Natasha are sent into space but end up having to abruptly come back to Earth when Natasha literally can't handle the pressure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Who Mourn

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt from ashen_key: Clint and Natasha... in SPACE!
> 
> I wrote the prayer at the end but it comes from many others that I have heard or found when looking for something more specific.

“Do not yell at me.” Clint spit out each of the words as if they were a separate sentence in themselves. “It’s not my fault that your widow’s bite doesn’t work in zero gravity. Or that your body can’t handle the pressure.”

“My body can handle the pressure just fine.”

Clint stopped walking down the hall, his body suddenly losing all of the rigidity as he’d struggled to contain this bout of temper. Instead, he folded his arms and leaned against the curved wall of the corridor. “Really? Then strip.”

“Right here?”

“Right here. Right now.”

Her eyes narrowed but Natasha put a hand to the zipper of the suit that was keeping her at the proper pressurization. To actually step out of it would have been disastrous as her body would have tried to compensate and ended up turning itself inside out. It appeared she was willing to take the consequences just to shut him up. Typical.

Since she was going to do it just to spite him and the gaggle of scientists that usually dogged their steps whenever she dared leave the lab, he rolled his eyes and started walking again. The very last thing he wanted was to find himself responsible for a massive clean up on level twenty two just because Natasha thumbed her nose at him and ended up imploding.

“A new team will be here 2100 to take our place before we head back down to earth. It’s no big deal if we’re not the team who takes down-”

“It’s a very big deal.” Natasha had caught up with him, her suit still very much in place. “This was going to be our op.”

“And now it isn’t. We’ll get new orders when we get back to lower Earth orbit.”

“But what about-”

“No. Big. Deal.” 

She was right, though. It was a big deal. Once upon a time, he’d been a kid who had dreamed of going to the stars but hadn’t had a prayer of getting into the astronaut program. Now he had a chance to be the next best thing and they were going to have to turn around and go back. His problem was that he’d been too excited about the prospect of space and now she was feeling responsible for the loss of his dream.

“I’ll let them run more tests.”

He glared at her from over his shoulder as they continued down the hall. “No.”

“Maybe they can make it so that I can-”

“No. I”m not going to let you endanger yourself. End of story.” The look on her face was making his heart do funny things. It could only be described as... sad. Natasha had many expressions (contrary to popular belief) but sad wasn’t one he could remember ever seeing. Even when he knew that she was feeling it, she didn’t let it show on her face. That it was now, said something about just how deep those feelings ran.

He put a hand out to her, waiting to see if she would take his comfort and turn away. For a few heartbeats, she only stared at his hand. When she took it, he tried not to let himself visibly recoil from the difference of her skin. She’d been out of the containment room for too long.

Even though he thought he’d done a good job of keeping his revulsion in check, she must have noticed because she dropped her hand. The lack of physical contact was nothing like what he felt when she looked away from him, completely shutting off.

“I’ll be ready to go when they arrive.”

Clint watched her walk down the hall away from him, aware that he _should_ call after her but that it wouldn’t do any good. If he could go back in time, he would most definitely not try to hide the revulsion. It would have been better if he’d accepted it and then made light of it to soothe her feelings. Anything less than honesty didn’t work with Natasha. He, more so than anyone else, knew that.

Later, he would sit on his bunk and wonder if he had let her down to make them even. If they’d needed to be on equal footing to be able to move forward. Was it worth it? She’d trampled his dreams to dust with her inability to handle the effects of space. Sure, he could have stayed up and done it with the new team but it wouldn’t have been the same as working as a complete unit with his partner. 

It would have been an experience that he never would have forgotten... and she wouldn’t have been a part of it.

So, he’d hurt her right back? Because of something that was completely out of her control? Even footing, indeed.

There was a tap on the door before the override codes slid it open with only a hiss to alert him that they were just following his orders. She stood there, straight and true, her back as rigid as he’d ever seen it.

He lifted his hand out to her. Without a moment’s hesitation, she entered his room but she didn’t take his hand. Instead, she lay down beside him, her head pillowed on his lap. With practiced motion, he carded his fingers through her hair.

“I’m sorry for being an ass,” she whispered.

“Funny, I thought that was my line.”

“I just really wanted you to have this chance.”

He shook his head even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “There’ll be other chances. It’s not like the station’s going anywhere.”

Six days later, the space station destruction was all anyone could talk about. They clapped Clint on the back, congratulating him on not being there when it happened, like it had been his plan all along to miss out on being evaporated along with the rest of the staff there.

“It’s like you two knew or something,” one of the junior officers gushed, completely missing Clint’s steely glare or the body language that told him to stop talking. Instead, he kept going on and on about the situation until the usual calm Clint had his hand around his neck, trapped up against the wall.

“This isn’t about me or Agent Romanoff. This is about hundreds of lives lost because of a malfunction.

“Right,” the man wheezed out as he tried not to struggle for fear of making it worse. “Sorry.”

When he was finally alone, Clint put his head in his hands and tried not to let the overwhelming feeling of _I’m alive_ override everything else. He had gotten so angry because it was exactly what he was thinking and what sort of person was he for letting himself feel relieved when he should have been feeling sad.

He was the one who went looking for her, seeing as no one has seen any hint of Natasha since the news of the explosion. When he scanned the helicarrier, he wasn’t surprised that she was down in the bottom most level, where the whir of the engines and other machinery was loud enough to push out every other thought.

_Want some company?_ he signed when she looked up. It was useless to try to carry on a conversation with spoken words in this environment and he’d actually turned off his hearing aids before coming down. The vibration alone was enough to give him a migraine.

Her only answer was to hold out her hand. He brought it to his lips, rejoicing in the feel of her smooth skin again, if for no other reason than the trip hadn’t adversely affected her now that they were back at an altitude she could handle.

_Want to talk about it?_

When she shook her head, he settled down next to her on the hard floor. It took her a few minutes before she leaned against him and, when she did, he put his arm securely around her. He couldn’t feel her heartbeat over the external whirring but he knew how it would feel under his fingertips if he was to press them more firmly to her skin.

Because it felt right, he began to recite a prayer from his only vague memory of his parent’s funeral. Even though he was close to her ear, he didn’t know if she could hear him but the words didn’t particularly matter. It was the intention and he could feel her body begin to lose all the tension she’d been carrying as she let herself be comforted.

_Bless those who mourn for they shall find comfort in the knowledge that your sheep have found their eternal pasture. Bless those who have found refuge from the storm of life for they shall find a rock that will neither sway nor buckle under the pressure of life’s overwhelming flood. Bless those who weep for joy comes in the morning after the long, black night of the soul. Bless those who..._


End file.
